


Child of the Night

by czaeristhetic (joantpan)



Series: Seasons [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pining, Rain, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24944695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joantpan/pseuds/czaeristhetic
Summary: “Let the rain come, for I feel safe and warm. Let it serenade the roof of my humble home. Let it knock on my windows in harmonious numbers. The overflowing goodness it brings to my world, it’s the manifestation of beauty itself.”In which Taeyong loves the rain, and Rain God Jaehyun lets it rain.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Series: Seasons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1805323
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Child of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Should I? or Should I not?  
> Stay safe people! Lovelots!

Taeyong liked rain.

No, scratch that. Tae _loved_ the rain.

Taeyong loves it when the wind starts howling – slowly picking up in almost invisible curls, tapping on the plants in a relaxing domino effect – coaxing out gentle and lovely sways from the smallest to the largest living greens.

He loves it when the fluffiest of white crawl into the darkest of greys – gathering in a group, covering its once bright cock-tail blue background, and little by little enveloping the city in a hazy yet comforting blanket of shadow.

He most especially loves it when he steps out of his front door – the eerie rumble of the heavens intensifies and would strike down on their grounds in vibrations – including the grasses, the walls and the wailing cars in its find.

To him, rather than a foreboding sign of danger, it comes out as a soft and beautiful cry – as if someone was weeping up high above, melancholic tears ready to descend in gleam-drops of silver. The thin slice of breeze in the air would persistently yet coolly whisper to him – “ _It’s coming."_

The rain is coming.

Taeyong, he just loves it.

He would feel giddy by then, acting like a silly goose. The first splatter, the first wet fall absorbed by his dry skin it’s – It's euphoria. The temperature plunges, shivers would trail down his spine – spiking his sensitive nerves in tingling excitement. It was _home_.

That is specifically why, on the contrary – Taeyong cannot find himself to offer a kind and sincere hand to the yellowish rays of sunshine. Taeyong and the sun, to put it simply, are not good friends – not ever, never.

Not when he wakes up in his room and realizes that not only his forehead and neck, but also his back is oozing with sweat. It annoys him to no end during each summer, when the heat outsources his electricity bill of 24-hours air condition use.

Not when he _actually_ goes out in rare occasions and the scorching, irritating, UV rays continuously slap his pale skin – burning the tip of his skin hairs to crisps. 

And most especially not when Taeyong feels like the sun is gradually sucking, draining, the very life out of him each day. He loses the will to continue living, even as to move an inch or twitch his butt cheeks.

So presently, as he was laying around the confines of his bed in one lazy summer morning, the rather hot pocket of sunshine prickles his face in a mocking mantra, _"Wake up shithead!"_ – he wanted to gouge his eyeballs out.

He buries his face on the pillow and takes a deep breath – and screams at the top of his lungs. His shorts ride up as he kicks his bare feet randomly like a spoilt child out of his mind.

"KIM DOYOUNG WHO TOLD YOU TO OPEN THE BLINDS YOU MFUCKERNXNCK@^DKAKK,#SKDJD$%&#JDJDJ!!!!"

And the rest? It was history, and shall be left to your vivid imagination.

Taeyong sits up, grumpily throwing his unsuspecting pillows to the tiled floor – hair sticking in several ugly angles. He violently grapples at the hanging ball strips of white, wherein his mint green blinds shut close in a loud and angry snap – throwing out the light of the new day. He then grabs the remote device of his AC and clicks on its buttons aggressively, putting the machine on a chilling full high cool mode.

In the whilst, he effectively ignores the little voice in the back of his head reminding him of his ever increasing energy consumption bill.

Tae slides down the bed by his lower extremities, then his torso next. He discards his sheets on the bed and sprawls himself on the ceramic floor that was relatively cooler in comparison to his thick comforters. He scratches his back and nestles his head on the middle of the pillow, closing his eyes to lull himself back to dreamland.

"Stop overreacting, you – old man!!" Doyoung yells from outside.

Taeyong flungs his middle finger at the door.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, makes it rain.

Not in a literal sense that he _makes_ the rain – it’s not his wondrous invention, but he does makes it pour during his season. And when he ought to do it.

Well, maybe at times he unconsciously does it with reason or no reason at all. Whenever he feels like it.

He's the _Rain God_.

Let’s take a short trip down memory lane.

Jaehyun was centuries old – roughly around four hundred and twenty-two years. But Gods don’t really make it a habit to count their ages for they look the same regardless, defying time and space intervals. He was, and is still, a handsome God – popular amongst the other Gods.

The saddest part though of his job description is that his father, the creator and supreme ruler of all of heaven was someone even he, a God, had not seen.

But enough about that.

In the olden times, people believed in Gods such as him. Civilization offers him sacrifices – delicious food, the most expensive alcohol, rare antiques, jewelries and treasures – and even going as far to perform oral rituals and dances to call for him.

And he always grants it. He made it rain when humans seek for him – when they ask for it during the drought so that their crops would grow, or when the remote people of the desert like lands are in need of it to live their lives with no fear of being parched and sick.

Jaehyun liked it then. It was pleasing. He felt important, famous, superior and proud.

But it was just then.

Fame can only take you so far.

When the so-called humans started to believe in other Gods, monotheistic religion growing as a trend, he was forgotten. They instantly abandoned him – for they had no use for him anymore.

Ungrateful creatures!

But still – he makes it rain. If he does, maybe one day the humans would notice and start believing in him once again.

Yet, even now, when the distant rain maker shines – humans save their thankyous for the other Gods.

He was neglected.

Up in his nest in the mighty heavens above, Jaehyun, up to this modern date, wonders if humans will have it in them to believe in him again.


End file.
